


so stay with me through the winter

by paddyfields (lucitae)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Post-Time Skip, mundane fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26730904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucitae/pseuds/paddyfields
Summary: a snapshot of the often overlooked moments — the mundanities of life.
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 12
Kudos: 52





	so stay with me through the winter

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY SUNAKITA DAY! with special thanks to [farah](https://twitter.com/rarazsho), [claire](https://twitter.com/sendaitsukki), and [vic's](https://twitter.com/ballgowhoooooom)

Rintarou’s knees ache. The hard floor offers no reprieve as he kneels. The pads of his fingers drawing bubbles out of shampoo, silver strands of hair obscured by the layer of foam. Tokyo submerged in night. The endless sprawl of a concrete jungle extends beyond the horizon, illuminated by a haze of light.

Shinsuke is submerged in water, arms on either side of the tub. Against the dark tiles and the dim lights, Rintarou would have missed the tan lines if he didn’t know where they were by heart. The water rises to Shinsuke’s chest. His head is tilted back, eyes closed, entrusting his weight to Rintarou.

The lights overhead highlight the slope of Shinsuke’s neck, the planes of his chest, the prominence of his collarbones. Rintarou traces the contours of Shinsuke’s body with his eyes, hands dutifully staying their course.

There’s a bottle of champagne outside, warming up at room temperature and losing its intended flavor. It’s accompanied by a gaudy display of a scatter of rose petals on the king size bed. Unable to be missed atop of hotel grade white sheets. A bold reminder that having your best man be the twin brother of your best friend since high school is a terrible choice. Maybe Rintarou should have gone for something simpler. The views of the Imperial Palace Gardens are far from necessity. They could make do without a pantry. But then they wouldn’t have this  _ furo _ and he wouldn’t be washing Shinsuke’s hair without it.

“I’ve never washed my mother’s hair,” Rintarou comments as he thinks about such acts. His younger years when he went to the public baths with his mother. How she would always wash him first before tending to herself. Eyes closed shut from fear of suds falling into them. The gentle rinse of water before a warm palm wiped away the excess from his eyes. Rintarou would stand to the side, wait for his mother to finish. Other ladies seated in front of the shower heads on either side would coo at him. How he would cling to his mother, cause her an extra two minutes in the rinsing process. But that was a long time ago. “You’re the first person I’ve ever done this for,” Rintarou says. He doesn’t mean anything by voicing it aloud. Special is implied.

“Is that so?” Shinsuke replies.

Rintarou’s fingers continue to massage Shinsuke’s scalp, copying what Shinsuke has done for him before. And every time since Shinsuke first suggested it during one of Rintarou’s visits to his farm. But back then Rintarou thought it was to save water. Even when they were both seated on stools in Shinsuke’s bathroom. The small, enclosed space trapping warmth. And Rintarou burns where Shinsuke’s knees accidentally touch against his outer thigh.

He knows better now.

Worries and stress are extracted by fingertips and wash away like foam.

One day, he might wash his mother’s hair as a form of thank you, long locks spilling into a sink.

Here, there is more than gratitude being conveyed.

Rintarou observes Kita’s expression, hoping it's the same contentedness that Rintarou feels when it is Shinsuke washing his hair. Because he wants to do the same. Repay in kind. Everything that he can’t put into words, pouring out of him in repetitive motions and a hum at the back of his throat. The melody of an old 80s song Shinsuke’s grandmother is particularly fond of.

Shinsuke’s eyes open. 

They look gold under the bathroom lighting. Like the fields he tends to during autumn. Like the moon they observe when it's full and almost within reach.

Rintarou knows he’ll never get used to it, fingers stilling as he holds that gaze.

An arm rises out of the water, droplets causing ripples in the surface, as it makes its way towards Rintarou and lazily draws him in by his neck. The water from the tub dripping onto Rintarou’s shirt. Ironed collar turning damp. The band on Shinsuke’s fourth finger glints as it catches the light. And Rintarou allows himself to be drawn in, fingers staying where they are because he doesn’t want the suds of shampoo to accidentally fall into Kita’s eyes.

He knows Shinsuke isn’t drunk. He didn’t drink. Not even at the banquet. 

So this look of his must be that haziness of happiness that curls in Rintarou’s chest, pulsates in tandem to the stutter of his heart. It turns sharper when lips touch and Rintarou can’t help but sigh into his husband’s mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> the hotel the honeymoon is held at is [aman tokyo](https://www.aman.com/resorts/aman-tokyo/rooms-suites/aman-suite).  
> i doubt i conveyed [this vibe](https://fencer-x.tumblr.com/post/151413416151/five-hundred-people-have-probably-posted-about) but this was what i was going for  
> the title is taken from [honeymoon ( forever )](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SM_XRt-mCI8).


End file.
